


Before I Go

by thornfield_girl



Series: Bits and Pieces [3]
Category: Justified
Genre: Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3759034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's a thing I started...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Go

**Author's Note:**

> These are scenes and fragments of fics that I've been working on in this fandom, and to celebrate the end of this wonderful show, I wanted to share them with you now. Mostly they are chapters in ongoing series (but sorry, not the Tim/Raylan one--I know!). All of it is unfinished and unbeta'd.
> 
> I don't have much time to work on fic these days because all of my writing time now is taken up with original fiction, but I really miss these characters and it was fun for me to read back over this stuff. Justified has been a huge source of inspiration for me, and I wouldn't be having my first book published THIS SUMMER if it hadn't been for the support and encouragement of this fandom. 
> 
> If you're interested in my original stuff, please email me at thornfieldgirl@gmail.com and I'll give you my info. I'd never spam you! I swear! But if I get enough interest, I might be willing to write a little more Justified fic from time to time, just for you. :D Just in case you're really hoping for some more of that Tim/Raylan series, this may be your only hope!!!

“Seriously Raylan, what the hell were you burning?”

Tim sat on the edge of Raylan’s desk and braced himself on one hand as he leaned closer to the man’s face. Raylan’s expression was, as usual, maddeningly smug.  
“Just a campfire. Had a hankering for s’mores.” 

“You don’t strike me as much of a Girl Scout,” Tim said. 

Raylan leaned back in his chair and put his stupid cowboy boots up on the desk. _Stupid_ , sexy _cowboy boots_ , Tim mentally corrected himself. _God help me._

“I don’t know you’re the best judge of what I am or am not,” Raylan said, smiling in that way he has, where his face crinkles up and his eyes get all squinty and the warmth goes out of them. Tim knew to take that as the cue to leave him alone, but he didn’t really feel like taking that cue this one time. Raylan was leaving soon, anyway, and Tim was pretty sure he was going to leave a bunch of unanswered questions in his wake. 

“You’re going to tell me eventually,” Tim said. “Might as well get it over with.”

“I’m not. And if I did, you’d be disappointed. You’re better off with the mystery.”

“Care to make it interesting?” 

Raylan’s face changed for a second, so subtly that Tim only noticed because he was staring at him. He couldn’t read the expression, though, and it was gone in an instant. 

“I take it by ‘interesting’ you’re talking about money?” Raylan asked. 

Tim could think of a few ways to make it a lot more interesting than that, but he doubted Raylan was on the same page. “Hundred bucks?”

Raylan grinned, and this time the smile actually reached his eyes. “A hundred bucks, and all I got to do is not tell you what I burned on the lawn, which was already my plan? I don’t know how I could refuse. Is there a catch?”

Tim slid off of the desk and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “Just one. You have to let me get you drunk. Level the playing field a little.”

“Optimistic of you,” Raylan said, “but I won’t say no to free bourbon. Just don’t think you get to cheap out on me.”

In the end, Tim decided to buy a bottle and bring it over to Raylan’s place, rather than pay for Pappy Van Winkle by the glass all night in the bar. It made more sense anyhow, if Tim was going to try to catch him with his guard down. Although, it did occur to him that perhaps Raylan would be more relaxed in a crowd than alone with someone who was asking him personal questions. 

Raylan took the bottle from him and nodded approvingly. “Smart move. I might have bankrupted you.” He set the bottle on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen. Tim heard him open a cabinet, and then the clink of glasses. He was still standing awkwardly in the hallway when Raylan reappeared, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “You are allowed to sit down,” he said, smirking. 

Tim felt his neck heat up, but he arched an eyebrow and said, “I didn’t want to lose my advantage.”

“Just sit. Jesus Christ.” Raylan poured generously for both of them and handed Tim a glass when he’d finally settled on the sofa. He lifted his tumbler in Tim’s general direction, then drank half of it down. 

“When you move to Florida, are you going to switch to rum?”

Raylan snorted softly. “Never did develop a taste.”

“Are you going to miss Kentucky when you leave?”

“Why, because I’ve had such a wonderful experience since coming back here?” Raylan shook his head. “Never been so anxious to see a place in my rearview, ‘cept for the last time I left here.”

He finished off the drink, and Tim reached for the bottle. “Wouldn’t want you to get thirsty, Raylan.”

Raylan narrowed his eyes at Tim and didn’t answer. After a moment, he picked up his glass, but still didn’t take his eyes off of Tim’s face. “What’s this all about, anyway? You can’t possibly care that much about what I was doing at Arlo’s house.”

“I just don’t like to be denied, I guess.” Tim took a small sip from his glass. He wasn’t about to get drunk, at least not until Raylan spilled the beans. “That must suck, huh? Clearing out that house? All those memories of your asshole daddy?”

“Sounds like you know something about it,” Raylan said, his voice mild. 

Tim shrugged. “I let my siblings deal with that shit. I was in Afghanistan. Never been so goddamn happy to be in a war zone.”

Raylan smiled and lifted his glass in that half-assed toast again. “Lucky you,” he said. 

“Find anything interesting?” Tim asked.

“This ain’t how this is gonna go, Timmy. You don’t get to sit here and ask me personal questions all night, hoping I slip up. You want answers, you’re gonna have to give some up yourself.”

Tim wasn’t giving shit up, that he knew for sure, but he could go along with Raylan’s game. He knew how to answer questions. “Fire away.”

“All right,” Raylan said. Tim noticed he was sipping his second drink much more slowly than his first. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to resort to some kind of drinking game. “When was the last time you were on a date?”

“Define date,” Tim replied. 

“Your generation is the worst,” Raylan said. “‘A date, Tim. Where you make plans and go do them, preferably before your pecker gets involved.”

“In what world is that preferable?”

“Come on, answer the question. Quid pro quo, Clarice.”

“You are not nearly as cute as Jodie Foster,” Tim laughed. 

“Liar,” Raylan said in a soft growl, and then winked at him. Tim’s stomach clenched. He had no idea what his face was doing. 

“It was about eight months ago, if you must know. Who has the time?”

“I managed to date two women and get one of them pregnant in a much smaller time frame than that,” Raylan said. 

“We can’t all be Raylan Givens,” Tim said. “For that, the women of the world should be eternally grateful. You’re a menace. Now--did you unearth any of the mysteries of Arlo Givens?”

“Not a one,” Raylan said. “Arlo was a lot more boring than you might think. In the end, just a pathetic old man with nothing to show for his life.”

“Well, he had you to show for it. That’s something.”

“Not in his opinion,” Raylan said, and this time he reached for the bottle himself. “Anyways. My turn. I would like to know, Gutterson, exactly what it is I ever did or said that would make you think I’d care that you’re gay.”

Tim gaped at him for a few seconds before getting it together enough to say, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re really gonna do that? Come on, Tim. I might have been born in a holler, but I didn’t spend my whole life in a mine. Don’t embarrass both of us. Just answer my question.”

“Nothing,” Tim said, his voice coming out thin and weak. Fucking Raylan. Tim should have known. He’d come here to get Raylan’s secrets, and he’d ended up losing the one he’d tried hardest to keep. “You didn’t do anything, or say anything. I didn’t think you’d… _care._ Not like, you’d hate me, or want to stop working with me, or want to save my soul. Not like that.”

“Like what, then?” Raylan asked. 

“Like you’d think you had to be careful what you said around me. Like you’d feel weird if I touched you on the arm or something. Just, that you’d think about me differently.” Tim heaved a sigh. “How’d you know, anyway?”

“You forgot to clear your browser history a few months ago. By the way, I think you should change the picture you’re using for your profile. You’re making that weird duck face in it. Not a great choice.”

“Fuck you, Raylan. My turn. Why aren’t you in Florida already?”

That seemed to stop Raylan short. He took time to take a drink and look away from Tim. Then he said, “Abject terror.”

“Of what? Being a shitty dad?”

“Of trying to do something I’ve already failed at once, plus a brand new thing that I have no clue how to do. So yeah, I found a reason to stay up here a little longer. You happy? You figured me out.”

“Boyd Crowder.”

Raylan scowled. “That’s the one. I’m gonna finish what I started there.”

“Either you always really hated him, or you used to really like him. It’s one of those, I know it. I never bought that line you fed Art about him, like you barely knew the guy.”

“Is that a question? Because I think it’s my turn to ask.” Raylan poured his third drink, and then leaned over to refill Tim’s. 

“Sure, Raylan. Go ahead and ask. You should have held back on the big question, though. Not much left to make me uncomfortable with.”

Raylan smiled. “Are you attracted to me?”

“Oh, because I’m gay and you’re a man, I must automatically be attracted to you? Thanks, Mr. Furley.”

Raylan rolled his eyes. “No,” he said patiently, “that’s why I asked you. Because I don’t know if you are or you aren’t. Some people are, believe it or not.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“That ain’t an answer. You know what, though, that’s okay. It wasn’t a fair question. You go ahead and ask yours.”

Tim knocked back the rest of his drink and set it down, too hard, on the coffee table. “Fine. What did you burn in your yard, Raylan?”

Raylan ran a hand through his hair, then gave that cold-eyed smile. “Arlo’s Army locker. Bunch of pictures, letters from my mama to him, whatever. Everything that man had that ever meant shit to him, fit in that goddamn locker. Now it’s ash. Because fuck him.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, nodding slowly, “Fuck him. He’s in the ground. Gone.” Tim realized he might be drunker than he’d planned to be. “Fuck all of them, shithead dads who never think you’re good enough. You won’t be like that. You’ll be a good father, Raylan.”

“I don’t know,” Raylan said. 

“You will be. Or at least, you won’t be like that. You’ll be nice to her. Even if she gets her tongue pierced or dyes her hair blue. Even if she wants to date girls.” 

Raylan got a big grin on his face and said, “Christ, I hope she wants to date girls. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting pregnant.” 

Tim laughed, and Raylan laughed along with him. Then Tim said, “I hate to spoil a nice moment, but there is the small matter of one hundred dollars, which you owe me.”

Raylan made a face and said, “Yeah, about that. I don’t actually have it on me.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“I really didn’t think I was gonna lose.” 

“No one ever thinks they’re going to lose a bet, dumb ass. That’s why you make the bet. But someone always has to lose, so you should come prepared to pay up.”

“I’ll get you Monday,” Raylan said. “Unless…”

“Unless what? No more bets.”

“No no. I was just thinking, maybe I could make payment some other way. What could I do for you that would be worth a hundred bucks?”

Tim stared, and Raylan held his gaze for several seconds before saying, “Kidding, Tim.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He held it out, but Tim didn’t take it. He was really fucking pissed. 

Raylan frowned. “I’m sorry. I was just fucking with you because I was mad you got me to tell you. I didn’t--I really didn’t want to talk about it at all.”

“Then why did you agree to the stupid bet?” Tim asked. “If you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“Well,” Raylan said, laying the money on the table, “I’m leaving soon. I thought we should hang out, at least once, and have an actual conversation. Which we did, until I acted like an asshole.”

That sounded like utter bullshit, as far as Tim was concerned. It didn’t sound like Raylan at all, plus Raylan had a shiftier expression on his face than usual, at the moment. Tim couldn’t imagine what his deal was, though. None of this made any sense. 

“Raylan, why did you want to know if I’m attracted to you?”

Raylan waved his hand as if to brush the question away. “Forget I asked that. I told you, it wasn’t fair. Just more of me acting like an asshole.” Raylan was definitely drunk. Tim wondered if he’d had a few before he’d even arrived. 

“Raylan,” Tim said again, slowly. “If you tell me why you asked, I’ll tell you if I am or not. How about that?”

“No. Forget it, Tim. It’s nothing.”

Tim was staring again, because even though it was almost impossible to believe this was happening, he couldn’t think of another explanation for Raylan’s weirdness. “Raylan, are _you_ attracted to _me_? Were you trying to figure out if I’d want to fool around with you?”

Raylan shifted uncomfortably on the couch and refused to meet Tim’s eyes. He busied himself with pouring yet another bourbon, which Tim plucked out of his hand before he could take a sip. 

“You drink that and you won’t be able to do a damn thing,” Tim said. He took a sip before setting it down on the table. “Come on, Raylan. Like you said, don’t embarrass both of us. You gave me shit about not telling, so what’s that make you?”

“I ain’t gay, though. I like women, mostly. I just...sometimes there’s a guy. Every now and again.”

“Now and again, huh? Or do you mean now?”

“Yeah,” Raylan said roughly. “Now. So...you want to?

 _Yes._ “Aren’t you getting married again soon?”

“So now we’re on to small talk?” Raylan reached for his glass, but Tim was faster and moved it out of reach. 

“Seriously, it doesn’t bother you to cheat on her, right after you get back together?”

“This ain’t--it wouldn’t really be cheating. We’re not gonna actually fuck or anything.”

“Uh huh,” Tim said. “So if Ava sucked your dick, that wouldn’t be cheating either?”

Raylan sighed and fixed Tim with an even gaze. “Look, it’s not the same. For me, in my mind. If it actually bothers you that I make a distinction, I get that. I respect it. But if you’re just giving me a hard time because you feel like it, and because that’s how we do, then I think you should give it a rest so we can have some fun. If you are, in fact, attracted to me, that is.”

Tim gave it a few seconds thought, but in the end decided that it didn’t really matter one way or another. Why should he care if Raylan was rationalizing away infidelity, or if he truly thought so little of whatever they were going to be doing? Either way, he wasn’t going to pass up a chance to get blown by Raylan Givens. He wasn’t crazy.

“So like, how do you want to do this?” Tim asked, his voice coming out more hostile than he’d intended. “No eye contact, no kissing, pants unzipped?” 

“Why, is that how you like it?” Raylan asked. “Look, Tim, I don’t want to have sex with someone who’s pissed at me. I’ve done it, believe me--I would get laid a lot less often if I took that off the table--but I’d rather not. I don’t have any rules like that. I want to kiss you.” 

“Really,” Tim said. 

“Really. I mean, I _really_ want to.”

“Well, go for it, I guess.” Tim put his own glass down and sat back, sort of half-facing Raylan and stretching his right arm along the back of the sofa. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew he didn’t want to talk anymore. 

Raylan shrugged, then casually leaned over and gave Tim the slowest, hottest, most amazing kiss he could remember getting, ever, in his entire life. He started with a closed mouth, almost nuzzling him with his nose, then nudged his mouth open with tiny licks and nips. When Tim had opened to him, he pushed forward more insistently, cupping the back of Tim’s head in his long-fingered hand. When Raylan finally broke the kiss, he only pulled back a tiny bit, stroking his nails through Tim’s curls. 

“Jesus,” Tim gasped, and Raylan immediately kissed him again, this time reaching down to rub at Tim’s crotch. Raylan grinned to feel how hard Tim was, breaking the kiss again. “And here I thought your mouth was only good for bullshit,” Tim croaked. 

“You ain’t even learned the half of what my mouth is good for yet,” Raylan said. 

Tim groaned. “If we do it on the bed, does that cross your imaginary cheating line?”

Raylan didn’t answer right away. He grabbed Tim around the waist and pulled him around so he’d climb onto Raylan’s lap. “Well,” Raylan said, occupying his hands with the business of unbuttoning Tim’s jeans, “way I see it, we got two options if we want to stay on the right side of the line. Either we can do it here and get naked, or we can do it on the bed, but we gotta keep our clothes on. Your call.”

Tim stared at him. “Are you serious? What kind of delusional bullshit is that? Raylan…” He put his hands over Raylan’s wrists and moved them away from his groin. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not sure I want to unless you can be honest about what’s happening here.”

“Oh, for--I was joking about the bed thing, Tim. I don’t care where we do it. And why should you care if I’m being honest?” When Tim didn’t answer, Raylan made a frustrated noise and then said, “Fine. You’re right. It’s a distinction without a difference. You want to do this or not? Because I get the feeling you’re trying to talk me out of it.”

“No,” Tim said quickly, shaking his head. “No, I’m not. I mean, I do want to. I just don’t like you acting like--” He shook his head again. “Never mind, let’s just get on with it.” He let Raylan’s arms go and pushed his hands up under Raylan’s shirt.

Raylan put his hands on Tim’s shoulders and looked at him. “Like what? Like it doesn’t count? I can see why that might bother you.”

“It’s fine, Raylan. There’s no reason it should make a difference.” All the talking had broken the mood, though, and Tim was angry with himself. He sighed noisily and climbed off of Raylan. “Shit. I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t know why I couldn’t keep my goddamn mouth shut.”

“Well. This was probably a bad idea anyway. We still have to work together for awhile, yet.”

“So how’s this work for you, anyway?” Tim asked. “Why do you think it is you can fuck guys, but you can’t fall in love?”

“Who says I can’t?” Raylan replied, shrugging. “I think maybe I could. But it’s just not in my head most of the time. Anyways. I love Winona. I can do without whatever else I might occasionally want. I just kind of figured, this one last time, before we’re really back together.”

“Does she know?”

“Does she know what?”

“That you’re bi? Or whatever it is you call yourself?”

“I don’t call myself anything,” Raylan said, “but yeah. She knows enough”

Tim sighed. “I guess you’re right...it’s a bad idea…”

Raylan shot him a sidelong glance, then snorted. “But we’re gonna do it anyway, yeah.” He stood up abruptly, and then started walking towards the bedroom.  
Tim made a valiant effort to push down the grin that sprung to his face as he got up to follow Raylan, who had begun stripping his shirt off before he’d even gotten through the bedroom doorway.

“Not even a little bit fair,” Tim said, staring at Raylan who was standing shirtless with his jeans clinging to his narrow hips. 

“You’re the one gets to look at me, so maybe you’re getting the better end of the deal,” Raylan said, with that smirk of his that usually made Tim long to punch him in the face.


End file.
